extrodinary within her ordinary day…

“there is no pretense to my breathing

or its mere seconds of suspension

when I feel you well up within me…”

 

There is no other that I choose, and yet how can I live the rest of my years here with a cold loneliness, a void hidden deep within. I, in constant flux of this living and dying. It is like a thousand thieves steal my gentleness and I rage for extraodinary…these winged words fly away and remain uncaptured by him

 

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